Lying on a misty shore

The
weight
of his waves
echo approaching
rapidly the white stretch
of soft sand. An explosion of
froth and fury. Awakening
the shoulders of stone.
The sea comes in
snarls of spray,
engulfing the
outer layer
of bone,
blinding
her
silent
core of

dry

-ness with
the wetness of a salty
stroke, erupting against the
run-down pier,the barren cliffs
and the brittle shells, he switches the direction
of his oscillating waves, burrying an
oyster behind
-lying on the misty shore-
The swift currents whisper to a mournful,
silky moon glistening over the
ripplesof the sea,
against the

damp

-ness of
the dark hard sand. In
the distance the warm breath
of dawn dances on ringless
fingers. They caress a
purple pearl that
swirls in an
infinity of
waves.